


Seducing You (M)

by mysticaljayne



Series: Month of Love [27]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:09:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticaljayne/pseuds/mysticaljayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You finally get your dream job in New York City just to see aliens come from the sky. Eventually things get back to normal, or at least as normal as things can get with superheroes running around.</p><p>When Tony Stark, one your boss's VIP clients, comes in and orders customized clothing for the other heroes in his company, things get just a bit more complicated. Especially since you are told to go and help the very flirtatious speedster.</p><p> </p><p>*Not really any gender involved, but I wrote it in mind with a male. Can be female, also.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seducing You (M)

You have been in New York for a while, even during the whole alien fiasco. When you called your parents back home, they didn’t believe you when you talked about the aliens and the hole in the sky. You really weren’t surprised, if you hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t have believed it, either.

 

But you are still surprised when you actually see Iron Man enter the clothing store where you do measurements at. You are even more surprised at the group of men following behind him.

 

In consideration, you really shouldn’t be so surprised. Tony Stark has come in here before, except he always made an appointment beforehand, and always with someone that he trusts. You are kind of new compared to the other staff, but you are also a fast learner.

 

“Newbie!” Mr. Stark yells for you and you hury over, doing your best not to appear as star struck as you are feeling.

 

You nod, and fiddle with the measuring tape that you draped over your shoulder only a few moments before. “Yes, sir?”

 

“You take speedie.” Mr. Stark points at a scowling blonde-dyed man that had been hiding in the back of the small pack. “Others? Go to your regulars!!” Stark takes off with Mr. Himash, one of the older guys that have been here forever.

 

Or at least before you and everyone you talked to has been.

 

“Sir?” You keep the smile on your face that they told you to keep with customers that were slightly unruly. “Do you want your measurements done, look at colors and designs first?”

 

He talks, and his accent is foreign and something that you can’t quite place. “Measurements. How many designs to a suit could there be?” You want to ask where he comes from, but you refrain from doing so. Asking would be considered rude and something your bosses would have little tolerance for.

 

“You would be surprised, sir.” You tell him, even as you lead him over to your work station. He’s a good looking man, with some very good looking lines. “Stand up here, please.”

 

You go around him and get his measurements, even if it’s like pulling teeth to get him to stand still for more than a second at a time. “This is taking forever.” He grouses out, and you want to grumble back.

 

You have been working as fast as you can. “I know, sir.” You keep polite, even if everything in you just wants to jab the man with a needle. It was taxing, true, but a necessary evil for a well fitted suit.

 

“Pietro.” He mentions, when you take a step back to write down the measurements on a piece of paper for the customizers in the back.

 

You are chewing on your pencil, a bad habit but a habit that you have picked up nonetheless. “Hmm?” You heard him, but wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

 

He looks a bit nervous when you look up at his face and away from his feet. “You keep calling me sir. My name is Pietro.” You nod and are about to go back to check the measurements of his shoulders when he asks, “What’s your name?”

 

You finish the measurement and put the tape back around your measurement. You smirk, “Newbie.” It was the name that everyone called you, even after working here for six months.

 

“Newbie is not a name.” Pietro was insistent, and you motioned him to get on down.

 

“Newbie is what they call me.” You gather the colors and a book of designs before walking over to a table to sit down at. Pietro looked even less fond of sitting down than he had before. “What kind of colors do you like?” You already had an idea of what colors to put with his coloring, but sometimes it could be a pain convincing someone.

 

Pietro huffed, but sat down in the seat across from you. He has pretty eyes, but you try to avoid thinking about it. “Blue and silver. What is your name?”

 

You look through the colors, and with each suggestion, he always ended it with ‘Your name?’ as though it was a game to find the truth behind your name. It was a big annoying, to tell the truth, “How about you pick a design and colors?”

 

He has knowing smirk on his face, and you wonder where you got the patience that you have. Definitely not from your parents. “Only if you have dinner with me and tell me your name.”

 

You have an argument with yourself, before nodding. “I’ll tell you my name at dinner. Now, pick.”

 

He is still staring at you, before picking the colors and design you had chosen thirty minutes ago. He looked like he knew what he was doing with his cocky smirk, but you weren’t going to raise to his bait. Nope, not going to. You stand to go to the back to have Mr. Himash go over your numbers and to give his approval or not, but a hand on your wrist stops you, “Pick you up at six.”

 

You roll your eyes, “Sure.” You don’t actually expect him to do so, but it was a bit sweet, in a way. None of Mr. Stark’s friends were in your league, but you will let him feel like the big guy for asking.

 

“I’ll be there. Be ready.” He smirks, and races away in a blur to join Mr. Stark’s group.

 

It’s Captain America, uh Steve Rogers, who claps you on the shoulder that jerks you out of your stupor. “He’ll be there.”

 

You nod, silently, not quite sure what to believe, but you would be ready at six. Something told you that he didn’t need your address to pick you up, that he already had the info and was ready to act on it.

 

Kind of creepy, in a way, but you were just going to go with it.


End file.
